Mrs Collins, You MUST Take a Lover
by Eldrice
Summary: A letter from Lady Catherine de Bourgh to the new mistress of Longbourn. As officious, overbearing, and impolite as you would wish it to be!
1. Chapter 1

**MRS. COLLINS, YOU_ MUST _TAKE A LOVER, by Eldrice**

**Standard Disclaimers Reply:** I do not own the characters portrayed herein and am making no profit from this story.

**A/N:** My first Austen fic, and I'm pretty excited about it! Being completely ridiculous, this was very fun to write. Comments are always welcome, especially those bearing criticism (there's always a way to do it _better_ next time).

Dear Mrs. Collins,

I have received Mr. Collins' most recent letter, in which he informs me that you are now comfortably settled at Longbourn. You must find the situation exceedingly agreeable. Indeed, the current state of affairs pleases everyone in possession of proper feeling, including myself. Longbourn has been shamefully neglected for years. It will be satisfactory to finally see that estate – extremely modest though it is – _properly_ managed.

But congratulating you on your new abode is not my primary motive in writing. In fact, you may think it strange to find this letter specifically addressed to yourself, rather than your husband. The truth is I have delicate business to discuss. Mrs. Collins, you must attend to what I am about to tell you. I have been aware for some time now that there is an aspect of your own personal affairs you have sadly disregarded. I find the situation _most_ distressing, and insist on having my say on the subject.

My character has always been celebrated for its frankness. And now I tell you with complete sincerity – Mrs. Collins, _you must take a lover_.

I will explain myself plainly. Being intimately acquainted with your husband, I am aware that he is a worthy man, and a boon to the Church. I myself have found his solicitous attentions highly gratifying. Nevertheless, he is sorely lacking in certain desirable qualities, such as intelligence and – even more unhappily – a pleasing countenance. You are actually fortunate that it is so. If Mr. Collins had combined cleverness with poor appearance, little could have been done. _That_ sort of man refuses to be cuckolded.

But as the circumstances stand, married women with husbands neither intelligent nor comely often find pleasure in attending to their own needs while their husbands are occupied elsewhere. They have no choice. I have always said that a woman's physical inclinations cannot be repressed. I feel quite strongly on the matter. For your own health, you must soon take action. Otherwise, I will not answer for the consequences.

I suppose you have had little opportunity for selecting a proper carnal companion yourself. Without doubt, no man other than Mr. Collins has _ever_ approached you, and you therefore have little worldly experience. But this is of no concern. With my training, you can achieve excellence. It is like playing the piano. With the proper practice, anyone can attain a good notion of fingering.

And fortunately, I have already made inquiries on your behalf.

Selecting a lover is a matter of taste and discernment. You can choose someone beneath you, but not so low that the connection – clandestine though it be – becomes a degradation. Unmarried groundskeepers are often excellent candidates; their lodgings are so conveniently remote. You see, I have a flair for conducting _les_ _liaisons amoreuses_, though I myself have never had a lover. My talents in this arena are quite superior, and I suppose there are few women in England as skilled in sensuality as myself. It is one of my great natural proficiencies. Indeed, just last month I procured for Lady Murchison a most vigorous lover, a robust Italian count with business concerns in Devonshire. She's quite delighted with my find. And it is wonderful how many other ladies I have benefited in a similar manner.

Therefore, I advise you most strenuously to consider my own gardener, Rogers, and engage him immediately if you are amenable. Indeed, I do not know why you should not be. Laborers are always a lusty sort, with hearty appetites. And the situation has several advantages. First, since Rogers is _my_ servant, his credentials are sound. Second, trysts can be arranged whenever you visit Rosings, which will be often. Given my elevated standing in society, your husband will suspect nothing when you betray an eagerness to visit me. He will think such enthusiasm only natural and right, as, in fact, it is. Indeed, the only difficulty will be in convincing Mr. Collins _not_ to accompany you as often as possible. But I understand that he is much engaged at present with improving the sadly overgrown garden at Longbourn. Let us hope his passion for pruning continues.

And third, you would not even have to visit Rogers' lowly cottage. There is a little room in the north wing of Rosings that would suit your purposes perfectly, as it houses a bed discarded by one of the maids. That part of the house has not been much used since the roof started leaking, and you would be in nobody's way. And, more importantly, nobody would be in _your_ way.

Rest assured that you can depend completely on my discretion. I know few people who are better at keeping confidences than myself. And I do not see why you should fear discovery and the subsequent inevitable censure. It is widely acknowledged that once marriage is accomplished, women enjoy certain freedoms that were denied when they were maidens. A married woman can perfectly maintain her respectability, while dallying around, so long as she goes about it properly. And being modestly situated as you are, there are few personages who could be interested in your happenings. _You_ cannot be an object of interest for any curious busybody. Furthermore, as I have already alluded to, your husband is a remarkably stupid man.

Nevertheless, if you were discovered, I should cast you from my acquaintance without remorse. Rosings could not be polluted by your presence, and your name would never pass my lips again. Your very existence I would refuse to acknowledge. These are the unfortunate consequences of exposure, unlikely though they be.

Finally, perhaps you have scruples regarding the trinkets and such you should be expected to bestow upon the gentleman in gratitude. Rest assured, Rogers will have only modest expectations of you. I have already informed him that you possess a very small fortune, and he has no objections on that score. A few pounds here and there will suffice. Furthermore, I know for certain of several women with incomes even below yours who have engaged lovers. They have not let frugality and limited means stand in their way.

As a widow speaking to a married woman, I have no reservations in expressing myself thus to you. We have shared experience. And I am confident that Rogers will serve your needs nicely. He has a quite remarkable set of shoulders, and nicely-turned calves. You must come immediately and become acquainted with him, particularly since he is so eager to embark on the adventure.

I will send my Barouche box for you this sennight next, and my servant will accompany you. It would be most improper for you to travel alone. Such an imprudence could not be borne, and I am extremely attentive to such delicate details. Any hint of impropriety is detestable.

_Lady Catherine de Bourgh_


	2. Charlotte's Response 1

**MRS. COLLINS, YOU **_**MUST **_**TAKE A LOVER, by Eldrice**

**Charlotte's Response #1**

**A/N:** _First, thanks to everyone who commented on my original letter! They were all appreciated. : ) Second, there were a few requests for Charlotte's response. I'd been thinking of the idea myself, and will write one … or several, actually. I have a few different ideas I'd like to explore. And if anyone would like to write one themselves, go ahead! _

_This first one is short and sweet, and was the response that sprung most immediately to mind. More will follow, but not for several days._

Dear Lady Catherine,

While I am more than usually grateful for your ladyship's generous offer, I cannot accept. Please do not send the Barouche box, as such measures will be quite unnecessary. My maid can accompany me, and I'll be arriving by post tomorrow.

Regards,

_C. Collins_

p.s. – Is not Rogers the fair-haired one?


	3. Charlotte's Letter to Lizzy

**MRS. COLLINS, YOU _MUST _TAKE A LOVER, by Eldrice**

**Charlotte's Letter to Lizzy**

**A/N:** _Dear readers, thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed these whimsical letters of mine. It's always fantastic to hear from you! I also need to warn you that the following missive requires something of an explanation. It is a letter from Charlotte to Elizabeth regarding Lady Catherine's letter, but it is not written by the same Charlotte who replied to Lady Catherine. You see, I could write a short ridiculous note to Lady Catherine easily enough, but I found I couldn't bring that same sense of frivolity to correspondence between Charlotte and Elizabeth. Therefore, this letter has a far more serious tone, and little of the goofiness of the other two. Sorry for switching modes so schizophrenically!_

**Standard Disclaimers Apply:** _I do not own any of the works or characters of Jane Austen, and am making no profit from this story._

My dear Eliza,

I have just received the most astonishing correspondence from Lady Catherine. It is so shocking I can barely bring myself to write. I have enclosed it for you to read. Please burn it as soon as you have finished; I know I can trust your discretion. I don't know how I shall respond. Oh, Lizzy, how can I possibly respond to such a suggestion!

Lady Catherine has recommended that I – well, you shall have to read the letter yourself, for I cannot bring myself to describe its contents, except to say that they have unsettled me exceedingly. I shall step away from my desk for a moment, pretending that you are engaged in reading it as I do. And Eliza, I apologize for the pain it will bring you, in light of your recent loss. Lady Catherine is indeed a most callous woman.

Have you finished? If so, you can now perfectly understand why the letter has made me so unhappy. It is not only the idea of a man thinking of me in such an impossible role that is so distressing. (Although that is awful enough … can I ever visit Rosings again?!) But Lady Catherine, with or without intending to do so, has placed her finger directly on the portion of my lot that pains me the most.

I am not insensitive, Eliza, to my husband's shortcomings. They were perfectly known to me on the day of my wedding. And, for the most part, they do not trouble me. They were the price I paid to be safely established. My life is busy and comfortable, and my housekeeping duties are more than enough to keep me active and amused. And, fortunately, my husband's own particular duties lead him _out_ of the house almost every day, so long as the weather is fine.

But there are quiet moments, I admit, when I find myself not quite content. Would it have been so bad, after all, to be a spinster aunt to my nieces and nephews, and to care for my parents as they age? It would have been a limited life, of course, and I would have been afforded little, or no, independence. My well-being would have depended utterly upon the whim of my relations. This cannot be a comfortable situation for any woman. And yet -- is it not also uncomfortable to have as little faith in your husband's sense as I do?

Those are the quiet moments, Eliza. Even more distressing are the _noisy_ ones, when my husband's tongue has exposed his limitations more awkwardly than usual. Indeed, it is my marriage that has finally taught me how to blush, a talent I never learned as a maiden. Those can be bad days, indeed. And Lady Catherine's letter (and the rain) has made this the worst day of all.

But that letter does more than merely remind me of the deficiencies in my husband's intelligence. Equally unwelcome are Lady Catherine's congratulations on Mr. Collins' recent acquisition of Longbourn. Eliza, I know any discussion on this topic between us at one time would have been exceedingly awkward. But your family has seen so much good fortune since my marriage that I think nothing I say will trouble you. (Do you not find it ironic, Lizzy, that I have gained what your family lost, and yet find myself less happy than any of you? With the exception, of course, of poor Lydia.) Therefore, I will be frank regarding my current situation.

This is not my house, and I do not feel at ease here. Even though your mother and Mary were delighted to move into Mrs. Bingley's cottage, I still feel as if I were an unwelcome visitor. Without intending to do so, I have left almost everything as your mother had it, fearful to be caught moving things from their place. And this in what is supposed to be my own house!

Also troubling are my constant recollections of Longbourn's former owner. I deeply admired your father, Eliza, and remember him with fondness. As a result, I feel a pain every time I pass his study. I imagine him sitting there as he used to do, chuckling over a novel with a glass of claret. You can't imagine the shock I felt when I first came upon my own husband reading in _Mr. Bennett's_ chair. For some time I was not quite myself. Nothing about my life here feels right. I suppose my feelings about the situation will change with time, but I will not be free from suffering until then.

So as you see, there is little at the moment to keep me cheerful. My primary comfort is the proximity of my own family, who are unquestionably happy to see me returned to the neighborhood. I'm much engaged at present with the preparations for Maria's wedding, a distraction for which I'm grateful, and which brings me sincere joy.

There has already been much in this letter to unsettle you. And yet, I have reserved my most agitating thoughts for last. You are the only person, Eliza, to whom I could admit this. The strength of our friendship over the years makes me believe that you will not judge me too harshly for it. But would you believe that there is a small part of me that wishes I could accept Lady Catherine's offer?

I can see you frown at me, Eliza. I know you must disapprove such thoughts. How can I explain? It is not the promise of Rogers' "nicely-turned calves" that lures me. I have never been a woman who chased creature delights (although I can imagine there are some wives who would welcome the charms of a "lusty" laborer with a "lowly cottage"). Rather, I am attracted by the possibility of some transforming experience – _any_ experience. To act purely in my own interest, without considering the obligations of family or society – who could not help but thrill at the idea?

But this is all nonsense. I am either too strong or not strong enough to embark on this adventure. Do not worry that I shall embarrass myself. I have chosen my place, and will not quit it. It is of no import if I am not quite as content as some. We can not all expect to have your good fortune, Mrs. Darcy, both in riches and personal happiness. There are few rich, good men in this world … and there are even fewer rich, good men who would take plain wives.

Yours, sincerely,

C. Collins


End file.
